By Charles C. W. Cooke
Wednesday, October 07, 2026
In the course of his interminable descent through Dante’s
many circles, Tucker Carlson has gone from indulging crazed World War II
revisionists to becoming one himself. In a conversation last week with the
English politician Jacob Rees-Mogg, Carlson repeatedly inquired why it had been
necessary for Britain to go to war with Nazi Germany when it did. “Hitler did
not want to go to war with the U.K.,” he insisted. “You attacked the
Germans; they didn’t attack you.”
That is, in a boringly literal sense, a true statement.
But it obscures so much that, once any measure of context has been added, it
becomes meaningless, misleading, and, above all else, indicative of a political
agenda that has gone badly awry. I will confess that it feels rather
extraordinary to have to rehearse this argument in public, but rehearse it I
evidently must: Whatever Tucker Carlson might like to believe, Adolf Hitler
could not be trusted to keep his word, and the existence of private statements,
public declarations, or treaties that nodded toward peace with Britain in no
way alters that fact. It is fair to conclude that Hitler did not want to go to
war with Britain in the late 1930s. It is not fair to assume that Hitler would
have declined to go to war with Britain later on, once his position was
stronger. I am unashamedly of the view that Britain’s decision to stop Hitler’s
advance early was morally imperative, irrespective of his designs on Britain
itself. Among other things, I think that the discovery of the Holocaust bears
that decision out. But even if one does not agree with that view, it ought to
be patently obvious that, as a matter of realpolitik, the British Foreign
Office was correct to consider every last one of Hitler’s assurances to be
worthless.
Tucker Carlson makes a great deal of Hitler’s insistence
that he “did not want to go to war with the U.K.” But Carlson steadfastly
ignores that not wanting to go to war was the pose that Hitler struck at
every step of his journey across Europe. In September 1938, he promised in
writing that acquiring the Sudetenland would satisfy Germany’s territorial
ambitions in Europe and then made a speech in which he declared that once that
issue was settled — an issue, you will note, that was only an issue because he
had made it one — “there will be no more territorial problems for Germany in
Europe.” Six months later, in flagrant violation of his vow, he invaded the
rest of Czechoslovakia. Six months after that, Hitler invaded Poland — a
country with which he had until recently had a peace deal. This was a pattern.
Nine days before his invasion of Poland, Hitler had struck a ten-year
non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union — a pact that, like all the others,
was broken just two years later when, to the great surprise of Joseph Stalin,
he invaded the Soviet Union with 3.8 million troops. Narrowly, it is accurate
to suppose that, during this period, Hitler did “not want to go to war with the
U.K.” But it was also true that, at various points in the past, Hitler had not
wanted to go to war with Czechoslovakia, Poland, or Russia — or, for that
matter, with Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, France,
Yugoslavia, and Greece. It is fair to say, I’d venture, that in the realm of not
wanting to go to war, Hitler lacked aptitude.
Elsewhere in the interview, Carlson went even further,
asking Rees-Mogg, “Who cares?” in response to Rees-Mogg’s claim that, had
Britain not fought the Nazis, the British would “be speaking German.” Who
cares? Before answering that, it ought to be noted that this question
implicitly contains a concession: that, had the British let Hitler be, he would
eventually have turned his attention to their island. But that aside: “Who
cares?” I care. Because he is glib and cynical, Carlson treated Rees-Mogg’s
contention as if it were a literalist declaration about language. “There are a
lot of people in Britain who can’t speak English,” Carlson said. “So it would
be nice to have at least a European language spoken in your country.” But of
course, by invoking the prospect of the British “speaking German,” Rees-Mogg
was not debating the merits of the two languages; he was deploying a common
metonym for “Nazi rule.” Because he has not lost his mind, Rees-Mogg assumed
that he could use shorthand to reference the near-universally shared notion
that being ruled by the Nazis was a bad thing. Alas, with Carlson he was
apparently wrong in believing that to be a shared premise. After their invasion
of Poland — which Carlson thinks the British should have left alone — the Nazis
killed 3 million Polish Jews. After their invasion of Russia — which Carlson
thinks was Hitler’s real desire, which he should have been allowed to indulge —
the Nazis killed a million Soviet Jews and 3 million prisoners of war. A
devoted, if shockingly amoral, isolationist might well insist that this death
toll was tragic but preventing it was not Britain’s responsibility. But Carlson
didn’t do that, did he? Rather, he said that “there are a lot of people in Britain
who can’t speak English, so it would be nice to have at least a European
language spoken in your country.” Honest observers must ask themselves what
this means. Britain won the war, which means that, rather than “speaking
German,” the British continued to rule themselves. That being so, what else can
this possibly suggest than that Britain might have been better off if, instead,
it had been taken over by the forces of industrial genocide?
As a rule, I am of the view that the participants within
our political and historical debates ought to be taken at face value, without
being accused at every juncture of harboring secret desires or of pursuing an
indirect program that they are too cowardly to candidly delineate. By dint of
his uninterrupted behavior over the last couple of years, Tucker Carlson has
forfeited that presumption. Something is rotten in the state of Maine.